Giddy Up
by SweetDulcinea
Summary: Bella comes home to a surprise: Jasper in cowboy attire...sort of. A little role play ensues, the hat stays on, and Bella learns to ride. Jasper/Bella AH


**A/N: Obviously, the Twilight characters belong to SMeyer, but I seldom represent them in any way she'd recognize. No copyright infringement intended.**

**This is just a little somethin' somethin' that came to me in a dream. No seriously. I had a dream about Jasper in cowboy boots, a hat, and boxer. OM NOM NOM... Enjoy!**

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I walk into the room and I'm completely caught off guard by the sight before me. My husband's shaggy golden blond hair pokes haphazardly from a large, black cowboy hat. On his feet are a pair of carefully stitched boots that I've seen him wear while riding. Other than that, he only wears a lit cigarette that hangs from his smooth lips and a pair of silk boxers that I bought for his last birthday.

It takes my mind a minute to register it all, repeating the details reverently.

Jasper.

Hat.

Boots.

Boxers.

Cigarette.

Dangerous smirk.

"Howdy, ma'am," he drawls, and I hear the thick Texas accent he always slips into when he's home or around family. Years of living up north have toned it down, but it only takes one conversation with another southern native for him to fall back into it. Not that I mind; his sexy intonation and inflection are something I adore about this man.

"Well hello there," I smile back, trying not to stare at the way his lips are pulling up to one side around his smoke. That grin always kills me, and don't even get me started on the dimples…

I am one lucky bitch, I must admit, because even after five years together – two dating, one engaged, and two married – he always manages to surprise me in the best kind of ways. This vision of hot, wild sex just waiting to happen is only one example. Raking my eyes up and down his fine, masculine form, I can't help but linger on the hard lines of his muscles, the gorgeous cut of his abs, or the dark lines of the tattoo that flows down his left arm, almost to the elbow. If I ever met an angel, I'm fairly certain it would look like him.

Stubbing out his cigarette, he ambles across the room, causing my breath to quicken with each step he takes closer to me. Normally, I would be pissed about him smoking in the house, but I can see that this is part of his game. A sharp gust of wind makes the curtains dance, and I'm at least grateful for the fresh air that will defuse the scent.

"What's all this about?" I ask with a playful tinge in my words. "It's certainly a surprise."

"Well, you see, ma'am, I've been riding all day, and my poor Penny – that's my horse – she's needing a rest from the sun. I hope you don't mind that I put her up in your barn."

I smirk at his game, hardening my features to play along. "This isn't some motel for strays. Not my barn, and certainly not my home," I scowl.

With a remorseful pout, he tips his hat off his head, holding it over his heart. "I certainly didn't mean to impose, and I do apologize for my behavior. Could you think of some way I could make it up to you?"

"Put your hat back on," I order immediately, and his eyes widen.

"Excuse me?"

"The hat. I want it on."

"Even in the house, ma'am?" he asks with another devious smirk.

"Oh yes." With confidence, I yank out my ponytail and shake my long dark hair free. I reach out a finger and press it between his ribs. He follows my direction, taking a few sidesteps so that he's in front of the bed.

His pout returns, steel blue eyes seeking mine. "How can I make it up to you, ma'am?"

My finger flattens against his chest, met by the rest of my hand as I push him back. "Sit," I demand, and he falls down onto the edge of the mattress. I kick off my shoes, hike up the flowing skirt I wear to fight the summer heat, and straddle his lap, holding myself up on my knees. I look down at him. "You've done me a disservice, cowboy."

"I have," he admits.

"You come to my home and expect hospitality. This isn't the good old days, and I certainly don't take lightly to how presumptuous you've been."

"I'm deeply sorry…"

"I bet you are," I say, sliding down his chest so that my breasts ghost over his face. I settle myself in his lap.

He tries to bring his hands to my hips, but I slap them away.

I rock back and forth lightly, not providing enough friction to satisfy, but it's a sufficient tease. Our eyes lock, and it's only moments before the desired effect is evident.

I gasp, "What's this?"

"I just can't help myself around a woman as beautiful as you. Please tell me how to make this right. I promise you that I'm a man who always pays his debts."

"There's one thing…" I begin, turning my face away from his.

"What is it?" This time, I don't refute his touch when his fingertips settle on the slope of my ass. "I'll do anything."

"Anything?" I look back at him, eyebrows raised.

"Oh yes, ma'am," he croons. "Absolutely anything, especially for you."

Once more, my hips press down against his with purpose, seeking to feel his need for me once more. He's hot and willing, and I know this is going to be good.

"For starters, you haven't even told me your name, cowboy. I feel more familiar with your horse than you."

"Again, my apologies. You would think my sweet mama never taught me any manners," he says. One of his hands wedges between us, held out to shake. "I'm Jasper."

"Well, Jasper, I'm Bella, and I don't shake hands." Grabbing his extended hand, I place it on my breast, which he immediately squeezes. "_That_ is a proper hello."

"Mmm…I do say that I agree," he grits out.

"Now, Jasper, there is still the matter of your obligation to me," I continue.

He nods. "Of course. What's the price?"

I lead his other hand to my chest, and I roll my hips slowly over his lap.

"You're a cowboy, is that right?"

"Oh yes," he mumbles, his eyes flickering between my face and my chest in the thin tank top I'm wearing. By now he's obviously realized that I don't have anything beneath it.

Leaning toward him, I allow my lips to touch the corner of his mouth, but they don't stop there. I drag them languidly over his jaw, feeling his light stubble tickle my lips. He smells like aftershave and sweat, and I cannot think of a sexier combination. Slowly, my lips are at his ear, and I release a hot breath, feeling his hair ruffle slightly. "I've always wanted to learn how to ride," I purr huskily, and immediately he stiffens.

"I-I'm a good teacher, ma'am, or so I've been told," he stutters.

I snap back, glaring at him sharply. "So you've been told? By whom?"

"Pardon my choice of words," he soothes, wrapping his arms around my back and pulling me close to him once more. I'm encapsulated in his broad, muscled frame, and I don't mind a bit, despite where I've taken our game. "Allow me to explain. There's just one sweet lady, much like yourself."

"Tell me about her," I insist, cupping his face in my hands and stroking his cheekbones with my thumbs.

He smiles, and this time it's genuine and proud. "Well, she is the loveliest thing I've ever known. When we met, she was wading barefoot in a stream at the park, picking flowers along the bank. I just knew I had to speak to her, so I walked up and said, 'Excuse me, miss, but it's illegal to pick the flowers in the park. I'd hate to see a pretty little thing like you get in trouble with the law.'

"And you know what she said to me?" he asks, and I shake my head, continuing to play along but unable to hide my smile. "She said, 'Well, I happen to know the chief of police very well, and I don't think he'll be arresting me for picking some wildflowers.' And when I asked her who that was, she informed me that the chief was her daddy."

"Oh my," I say with a grin. "She founds feisty."

"Indeed," he chuckles. "Do you care to hear the rest?" I nod, so he continues. "She took that bundle of flowers, and as we sat in the grass talking, she wove them into a little purple, white, and green crown that she placed over her brown hair, and I thought she looked just like an angel. From that moment, I knew that I finally believed in love at first sight."

I'm lost in his retelling of the day we met, and I rest my forehead against his. The way he remembers, I sound so enchanting and irresistible, but it was me who was enraptured with him. From his dimpled smile to the sweet way that he spoke to me, I knew I had met someone I had to get to know better. That was only the beginning of our wonderful life together.

"So what would your lovely girl think of you now, here with me in hardly a stitch of clothing?"

"Oh," he begins, hugging me tighter, "I think she'd make an exception just this once."

"Me too," I say softly, finding his lips with mine and pressing them together. It's careful and tentative, building with a slow burn as though it is truly our first kiss. When we part unwillingly, I gaze at him determinedly. "Teach me to ride, cowboy?" My voice feigns innocence, but my words are suggestive.

I'm surprised when he pushes me away and helps me stand, but he quickly amends his actions with instruction. "The first thing you'll need is proper attire, and I'm sorry, ma'am, but this will never do."

"Oh?" I lift my arms as he peels my tank top over my head. He bends to take one stiffened nipple into is mouth and nods against my chest. At the same time, his hands slide down my sides, and they are so large compared to my petite frame that his fingers skim my back as his thumbs trace my front. When he reaches the waistband of my skirt, he brushes it down, taking my panties with it.

"That's better," he smiles, standing and looking me over as my clothes pool at my feet.

"And what about you?" I ask, toying with his dark silk shorts. "These don't look appropriate for riding _at all_."

A deep chuckle rises from his chest and he shakes his head. "No, I suppose not. Can you help me with that?"

"Of course."

In seconds, he's left in his boots and hat, and my eyes are glued to his lean hips, the muscles that point down toward my prize, and of course, his hard length, ready and waiting for me.

"Is this mine?" I ask coyly, reaching out for him. He hisses as my hand wraps around his cock, pulling him toward me as if it's a rope.

"Anything you want," he grunts.

"Oh, I _do_ like the sound of that," I admit. "What comes next?"

He backs toward the bed and sits once more, scooting himself backward until he's propped on a stack of pillows. He beckons me forward, and I crawl up the bed toward him.

"I'm glad you paid attention before," I tell him. "I like you with the boots and hat still on." He only grins in response.

"The next step is the mount," he explains. "When you're getting on your horse, you always want to mount from their left side. Would you like to try that?"

I agree, positioning myself on his left side and swinging my right leg over his body. I'm up on my knees, and his hands rest on my hips.

"Very good. Now you've got to settle into the saddle. Just like this," he instructs as one of his hands leaves me to hold his cock up and the other pulls me down. He rubs his tip back and forth against my sensitive skin when we touch, and he chuckles. "Well oiled, I see." I smirk at his awful joke and lower myself onto his length. Inch by delicious inch, I take him in, feeling him stretch and fill me. I have never tired of the feeling of these first moments of love, and I don't think I ever will.

I hum appreciatively at the sensation of being so full and content, and I watch his eyes roll back in pleasure.

"That's…that's right," he mumbles. "Comfortable?" he asks, peeking one eye open to check on me.

"Very," I assure him. "Do I start with a walk?"

He nods, fighting his need in order to form words. "Yes. A firm squeeze instructs your horse to begin moving. Mmmhmm…just like…that."

And so we go through that way as he instructs me on the bouncing motions of a trot, the smooth glide of a canter, and the wild abandon of a gallop. I take each of his instruction, smiling and laughing as we continue our "lesson" and he guides me through each speed and motion.

Somewhere along the way, we lose ourselves and the game is forgotten, but I can't find it in myself to feel too upset about that. I turn my body over his, angling myself so that back is to him, and I lean forward, clasping his upper calves for support.

"Reverse cowgirl…is not safe…on a horse," he barks out, and I laugh with him, nearly losing my composure and rhythm, but his hands steady me and urge me on. One flattens against my back, running up and down my smooth skin, and suddenly, I feel something on my head. It only takes a moment to register that it is Jasper's hat, and I adjust it, turning to smile at him over my shoulder.

"Naughty boy," I tease.

"Sexy cowgirl," he replies with a blissful smile.

I continue to rock and ride him, finding new and fantastic angles, but I feel him twitching under me, waiting for his opportunity to dominate our lovemaking. I laugh inwardly when he flips us around, forcing me onto my hands and knees as he positions himself behind me. I receive a hard smack on my ass, and he thrusts without an ounce of restraint, holding me up with one arm while the other comes between my legs, stroking me above our joined centers. Regardless of his hold or my attempts at restraint, I fall forward onto my elbows, crying out each time he pounds into that sensitive place inside me. A hard climax overtakes me, and I slump forward, no longer able to push back against him to accept his movements. He continues regardless, and I know he's finished when he falls on top of me, breathing heavily and unable to move.

A few moments later, he rolls over and yanks off his boots, freeing them from the suffocating heat. I imagine they weren't especially comfortable during sex, but I have little sympathy considering all the times I've worn shoes in bed for him.

We lay there panting, and eventually our breaths grow steady and even. I curl myself into him, mindlessly stroking his warm, damp skin, and smiling as I think about our little scene he initiated. Another idea strikes me, and I sit up, despite the way his eyes implore me to stay with him.

"Well, cowboy, I was wondering if we could continue this lesson in the bathroom. Maybe you could give me a little instruction in bathing and grooming your horse?"

He scrunches his nose at me and gives me a skeptical look. "Really?" he asks. "The riding thing was hot, but grooming, babe? That's somehow less appealing."

"Fine," I huff, slapping his arm but still smiling. "Game over. Let's try a new approach. How about you follow me and give me a lesson in fucking your wife in the shower?"

As I disappear into the bathroom, I hear him call out behind me, "Now that I can do!"


End file.
